


Since that dear kiss...

by Findswoman



Series: The Lasan Series [12]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, Introspection, Lasan, Lasat, One Shot, Romance, Separations, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 12:16:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20930090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findswoman/pseuds/Findswoman
Summary: Memories of shared tenderness before and after calamity and exile. Based on the song"Sweeter than Roses"by the seventeenth-century English composer Henry Purcell (1659–95), from which the epigraph is taken. Sequel toRomance among the Stones, referencing its events; also references the events ofThree Strands.





	Since that dear kiss...

_Sweeter than roses, or cool evening breeze_  
_ On a warm flowery shore,_  
_ Was the dear kiss, first trembling made me freeze,_  
_ Then shot like fire all o'er._  
_ What magic has victorious love!_  
_ For all I touch or see_  
_ Since that dear kiss, I hourly prove,_  
_ all is love to me._

* * *

_Then_

  
The pretty young second-degree shaman with the long hair sat in her study chamber at the Academy of Shamans on Mount Straga. The Fourth Tractate of Prophecy, one of the foundational sacred texts of Lasan, lay open before her, and she was supposed to be studying it. But her thoughts and heart and senses kept going back to the day before, to the kiss amid the mazna flowers in the charming clearing beneath the Warrior. Her beloved Guardsman had just pledged his eternal fidelity to her with the gift of a betrothal stone, and he had taken her in those strong, stripe-swirled arms of his, pressed his lips to hers—and oh, how it had been like the sacred lightning shooting all through her, making her entire being spark, tremble, and glow! How she longed to feel his touch again…!  
  
She opened a drawer in her desk. There was the stone, _her _stone, in all its crimson, crystalline glory. She picked it up and pressed it to her lips. _Till I see you again, my mighty bristlecone, my love..._

* * *

  
**The young, muscular officer of the Lasan High Honor Guard stood beside his gear locker, fully armored, with his bo-rifle slung behind him. Soon he would be out on the parade grounds, briefing the men of his subunit on their assignment for the day, but there was still a moment or two before that. And he needed a moment or two, because he still couldn’t get that incredible day out of his head—the day his lovely shaman had said yes to him in the shadow of the Warrior. She had looped her arms around his neck in that way of hers—like she was gonna wrap him up in her beautiful stripes—and he had taken her in his arms, too, and kissed her with all his might… and it was like his whole body had caught fire, inside and out. Aw, there was nothin’ like her, nothin’—the feel of her, the scent of her—those eyes, that hair, those stripes, that sweet form pressin’ up against him…**  
  
**Karabast! Honor Guard or no Honor Guard, just thinkin’ of it made him all warm inside!**

* * *

_Now_

  
She sits alone in the small, drafty apartment on a world far from home, a world to which she did not choose to come. The holoimage of that same beloved Guardsman lies before her. Here, too, her mind wanders to him—to his kisses, his embraces, to all the times his warm strength has ever enfolded and filled her. To the sweetly tingling shivers, the fiery-icy sparks...  
  
But they can be no more than a memory now. She must no longer deceive herself: her mighty bristlecone has been cut down. By now his spirit must be wending its way through the Maze toward the ancient homeworld, never again to return to this galaxy of pain and gloom. Besides, it is now time to head to work…  
  
A tear falls on the beloved image as she rises to go.

* * *

  
**Karabast, why does he have to remember her? Why couldn’t he have just forgotten her like everything and everyone else? Why does he keep seein’ her gorgeous green eyes in his dreams? Why does he keep feelin’ her and smellin’ her next to him wherever he goes? Why does he keep _wantin’_ her when he knows she’s gone?! It’s too much! It’s torture!**  
  
**And why, oh why, did he have to find that old holo of her that had slipped down behind the storage locker?! Insult to injury, that’s what it is!**  
  
**He throws down the holo with a loud oath, then grinds it into the floor underfoot—then buries his face in his hands.**  
  
**And so help him, if _that kid_ comes in here and finds him like this, he’s really gonna get it… **¶


End file.
